


Dresses

by Scrunchles



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assumptions, Awkwardness, Crossdressing, M/M, forced reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrunchles/pseuds/Scrunchles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written based on Awful AU #245: "You’re stuck in a dress in the fitting room cause the zipper broke and are now asking me for help, idk man I’m not paid enough for this..” AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dresses

Krem looked up from ringing up a purchase when the store’s entry bell rang.  He put on a bright smile as he said, “welcome to Aclassi’s Classy Tailoring and Finery.  If you need help, I’ll be just a moment, but feel free to look around.”

 

“Thanks,” the noble waved him off rather politely before beginning to look at the simple mage robes offered at the front of the store before moving on to the more casual wear generally aimed toward Soporati.

 

Krem lost track of him as he continued the transaction, but he wasn’t worried.  Theft from their store wasn’t unheard of, but it was less common since Krem broke a thief’s arm shortly after he returned from Seheron.  He packed up the customer’s clothing in paper and twine, an older touch that his father felt gave them a more classical feel.than plastic.  “Thank you for your purchase,” he told the woman with a more subdued smile than his greeter smile.

 

“Thank you, Cremisius.” Her eyes flicked from his name tag to his face and she returned his smile.  “I look forward to shopping here more often in the future.”

 

“We would appreciate your continued business, madam,” Krem replied, waiting for the customer to leave the store before his smile dropped and he hopped over the counter to begin straightening the store.  They never got too busy, but they sold enough to keep food on their table and enough interesting fabrics around for one of a kind items for “more discerning guests.”  At least, that’s what his father called them.  Krem just referred to them as “the fancy rich ones.”  He assumed that the man who had come in earlier was one such fancy rich one, or he at least worked for one, since he was carrying several dresses toward the dressing rooms at the back.

 

Krem made sure that all the racks he came to were sized and color-coded correctly.  He passed by the dressing room and head soft sounds of distress and the man from before curse softly.  “If you need a different size, or favor a tailored dress, my father can do custom work,” he mentioned, though he didn’t go inside the doors as a point of customer privacy.

 

“No, I… ah... uhm… mngh… fine, thank you so very much!” the man called out before going silent.

 

Krem shrugged and moved on, straightening and dusting as he went.  He hated retail with a passion, but a job was a job, and he was going to do it right if he was going to do it at all.  Besides, after his deployment with the Tevinter Imperial Army, he had to keep himself moving, it was the only way for him to stay sane after hacking his way through Seheron with the rest.

 

A few customers came and went, browsing and asking questions, but no purchases, and the customers in the dressing room hadn’t yet appeared.

 

Krem thought back to what he’d heard, to the length of time that they had been within the small rooms.  He watched them for a few minutes before sighing heavily and groaning a soft, “fucking Maker…” that luckily only caused one head in the store to turn.  He ignored the young woman and began stalking toward the dressing rooms.

 

“Alright,” he said lowly as he approached the door and knocked firmly, “I know what you’re up to in there, so you might as well get dressed and leave.  This isn’t that kind of establishment.”

 

A world-weary sigh came from the small room, and Krem waited to hear the click of the lock.

 

“It’s not what you think,” the man said, and the door moved before the latch was drawn, as if he were leaning against it.  “I… I need help.”

 

“What, piercings get stuck or something?”  Krem braced his hand on the door and pushed.  “Maker knows what you nobles get up to—“ Krem stopped when the door opened to reveal not two Tevinter nobles, but one very embarrassed looking man in a sheer-sleeved blue and gold dress that brought out the shine of gold makeup dusting his cheeks and lining his eyes.  “Maker’s breath,” Krem wanted to stand there staring for weeks.  Even with his hair dishelved and the dress not quite zipped, the man looked like he might have stepped straight out of a magazine.

 

“I’m a bit thick in the waist for it, but a larger size slips down too far,” the man explained before shaking his head and turning around to show a broken zipper that looked hopelessly stuck.  “Would you mind…?” he asked before raising his hands to brace on the wall of the dressing room.  His back flexed attractively and he drew in a tight breath to make the zipper strain less.

 

Krem took a deep breath and sighed heavily.  Great, now he looked like a prick.  He really wasn’t being paid enough for this job.

 

He reached for the zipper and tried working it up and down, but it was stuck tight on a fold of shredded fabric that probably hadn’t started out that way.  “Hold still, sir,” Krem said, flicking a pocketknife out.  The noble’s back flinched and Krem braced a gentle hand against his bare shoulder.  “Easy, I’m going to bend the zipper so you can get out.”

 

“This is so embarrassing,” the man whispered, as if to himself.

 

“I… don’t be,” Krem told him as he worked the edge of the blade between the teeth of the zipper and the slider.  He twisted, and the zipper released the dress.  “I’m going to pull the zipper the rest of the way apart, is that alright?” he asked, trying to act like it was a regular occurrence.

 

“Please,” the man nodded.  Krem could see his expression in the mirror.  He seemed resigned to his fate, and that just made Krem’s chest tighten with sympathy.  He knew that look.  He’d worn it himself.

 

Krem carefully pulled the zipper apart until the top of the man’s underwear showed.  “There we are,” Krem told him, gently patting his shoulder.

 

The noble straightened and shrugged the dress off as he very quickly and quietly said, “thank you, I will, of course, purchase the dress,” he stretched after what must have been a solid fifteen to twenty minutes or so trying to work the zipper on the dress.  The garment slipped down his hips to pool at his feet and Krem hastily exited the dressing room before shutting the door.

 

“… and if there’s any way I can thank you,” he said through the door, “ _please_ let me know.  You can see how this kind of… sensitive _thing_ might…”

 

“Alright, I’m going to stop you there.”  Krem opened the door again and stepped in again to have this conversation in private rather than through the door of the dressing room.

 

The man was still pulling up his leather pants, but quickly followed through when Krem politely averted his gaze.  He didn’t look again until he heard the click of the man’s belt.

 

“So, what is it you want?” the man asked, crossing his arms.  “Money? Sex? Status…?”

 

Krem laughed aloud and leaned back against the dressing room door.  He rubbed his eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose before looking back up at the noble who believed that he held his reputation in his hands.  Believed that he would do something terrible with it.

 

“I’m sorry for my comments earlier.  I thought you were assisting a woman in here earlier, and then… I thought you were _assisting_ her in other ways just before I knocked,” Krem admitted.

 

“Oh…” the man laughed from his gut and covered his face with a hand, shaking his head.  “Oh Maker, that’s _wonderful_ …”

 

“It wouldn’t be the first time.  _But_ , I shouldn’t have assumed, and I would _never_ —“

 

“I’m not going to sue you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” the man seemed amused that Krem was so apologetic.

 

“That’s not—“

 

“Listen, I’m going to finish getting dressed and go.  Thank you for your help, you’ve been more than accommodating to my tastes, I can assure you.”  He was gentle in his delivery, and Krem took it as a sign that he didn’t want to talk about it.  So, still feeling repentant, Krem silently nodded and knelt to collect the broken dress as well as the others still hanging before he left the dressing room.

 

He busied himself with putting the hanging dresses back up, noting the taste the man had as he went.  He was sure that he would look lovely in them.  Most of them were reminiscent of more svelt ball gowns with a bodice that shaped the waist and skirts that accentuated the hips before dropping down to flutter about the ankles.

 

When the man finally emerged from the dressing room, Krem was pinning the back of the zipperless dress closed so that it would stay on a hanger.  He quickly moved to take it to the back so that his father could fix it and hoped that he would be able to miss the noble.  He waited in the back room for several minutes before the bell rang, and he put on his bright customer-smile before heading out to greet—the noble leaning on the counter and playing with one of their business cards.

 

“Can I help you?” he asked, trying to pretend that he hadn’t seen the other man near-naked.

 

“Yes, earlier you said that this shop does custom work,” he said, studying it rather than looking up at Krem.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Do _you_ do the work as well?  Or is it only your father?” he asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the card to look at Krem.

 

“I know a little… I can’t make a whole new garment, but I can let it out or take it up if needed.  Do the measurements and all that.”  Krem smiled at him encouragingly.  It surprised him that the noble could look so beautiful one moment and masculine the next with the same configuration of makeup.  _Mages_.  Really.

 

“I may have to stop back in, then.  If you would be comfortable with it, of course,” he added.

 

Krem smiled a little and nodded.  “Of course.  It’s no problem at all.”

 

“Dorian, by the way.  Of house Pavus.”  He held out his hand and Krem accepted it, feeling extremely awkward and certain that he was not looking impressed enough at the revelation of Dorian’s ancestry.

 

“Cremesius Aclassi.  Call me Krem if the first name is a mouthful,” Krem mentioned, unsure why he felt like he was introducing himself in school all over again and hadn’t spent the last few years bouncing around Northern Thedas with a bunch of soldier-types that would likely eat this Dorian fellow for breakfast.

 

“A pleasure,” Dorian assured Krem before tucking the business card into his robes and turning to leave the shop.

 

Krem watched him leave, and that was that.  He fully expected never to see the man again.  One more embarrassing social blunder behind him.


End file.
